Briars and Brambles
by lunalibera
Summary: Aurors Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy are forced to jointly lead an investigation into a deeply disturbing string of crimes, seemingly perpetrated a group of dark wizards. With fear constantly coating their skins and paranoia dogging their each step, their ability to trust and depend on each other will be paramount to successfully completing their mission.
1. Initiation

"Witches and wizards, I thank you for coming here on this day to witness the initiation of the most recent graduates of the Auror Academy," the Head of the Auror Office, Harry Potter began, applause breaking out from the sea of proud parents before him.

"These young men and women have chosen to devote their lives to protecting the innocent, upholding the principles of honor and integrity, and fighting dark forces with every bit of strength, resourcefulness and unending valor they have come to possess. We wish them all the very best as they enter the field," Harry continued. "First and foremost, however, let me congratulate in particular the two top students of this year's graduates, whose sheer thirst for knowledge and desire to prove themselves have enabled them to achieve unprecedented success throughout their course and in their final examinations. It is with great pleasure that I present Aurors Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy with the Golden Robe Award."

Harry beamed with pride as he watched his favorite niece accept the highest accolade from his arms, glancing at Ron and Hermione Weasley's shining faces. He could just make out Ron bragging to the parents sitting beside him—"That's MY daughter, you know"—and he shook his head. Some things never changed.

As the ceremony drew to an end, Harry walked over to his wife, Ginny Potter, and they headed out into the sunshine, where their son, Albus Potter was busy congratulating his cousin and his best friend on their achievement.

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, my father told me I scored two points above you in that exam," Rose's rather indignant voice floated out to the approaching couple.

"Are you deaf, Weasley? Did you block out Mr. Potter saying the award's based on our performance throughout the course, and not just examinations? And you know as well as I do how much I outshone you during the course. Need I remind you?" Scorpius sneered.

Harry flinched a little; at times Scorpius's physical resemblance of his father was difficult to stomach. Of course, Scorpius had had the fortune of inheriting his mother's Ravenclaw brains—no Malfoy brain could possibly have competed with Hermione Granger's daughter—and the misfortune of inheriting his father's narrow, rather ferrety, face. Scorpius had indeed deserved the award as much as Rose had. Knowing for a fact, however, that Scorpius Malfoy was and would remain the object of Ron's, and therefore Rose's great displeasure, Harry decided against stepping in. After all, he had had plenty of experience with a certain pair of friends' bickering, which he seemed to be reliving as he watched Rose and Scorpius go at it. He fought the urge to snicker at the sudden vivid image of a wedding ceremony that popped into his head, involving Rose and Scorpius, with Ron turned into a babbling baboon (courtesy of his best friend) and Draco Malfoy into a bouncing ferret (courtesy of his wife) in two separate far corners of the pavilion.

"You did NOT outshine me for a single moment during the course, Malfoy! I beat you at every single thing, on every single day!" Rose shouted, knowing this wasn't strictly true.

"Oh? And what about the time last September, when you called in sick for an entire two weeks? May I remind you that I, for one…" Scorpius trailed off, knowing he had gone too far this time. Discomfited, he watched as Rose's eyes widened and shoulders started to shake. He let out a few incoherent words of (attempted) apology, staring at his shoes, before a resounding SMACK flung his head violently to the side.

Rose stormed away, angrily brushing at the tears in her eyes.

Scorpius turned warily to his best friend. Albus simply raised his eyebrows in a distinctly-you-deserved-it-and-should-be-ashamed-of-yourself manner before loping off after his cousin.

Harry clapped Scorpius on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Scorpius," he said, in a quiet voice, "For future reference, please try and remember that at times, words inflict far deeper wounds than blows ever can."

With that, Harry and Ginny walked off to the Apparition point, leaving a somewhat abashed Scorpius Malfoy standing alone in their wake.


	2. The Malfoys

Draco Malfoy. Death Eater at sixteen, nearly a murderer at seventeen, and social outcast for the rest of his life. He had read Dumbledore's biography, the warped version by Rita Skeeter having been re-written a several years ago by Hermione Granger, now Weasley, and Draco had felt little more than a momentary flicker of reassurance that others too, even great men, had made mistakes in their youth. The flicker had died when he had read on, the words on the pages reiterating the fact that Dumbledore had made up for those mistakes—several times over, in fact.

Draco Malfoy, however, was a coward in comparison to the likes of Dumbledore, and-dare he admit it?—Harry Potter. It had been far easier to sit back, idle, in the shadows and watch his life pass by, living on the shrinking pile of gold that had been left behind after several enormous fines had been paid to the ministry. He lived comfortably, there was no doubt about that. The Manor had been abandoned in favor of a far smaller London flat, but he, his wife and his son had never had to scrounge. Like everything else, Draco had failed at being a husband and a father, but at the very least, his family had a roof over their heads, beds to sleep in and food on the table. He had watched with a pang that had steadily faded to a dull ache as his son gravitated closer and closer towards the Potter-Weasley family as the years went by. He honestly could not blame Scorpius.

Astoria Malfoy, née Greengrass, was an uncommonly bright witch, whose greatest asset was her uncanny ability to read non-verbal signals. Legilimency, veritaserum, even the Imperius curse could be blocked. Body language, a term more commonly found in muggle vocabularies, could not be hidden. Perhaps her talent predated her marriage, but her husband's extreme reticence had only honed her skills.

Astoria differed sharply from the long line of impeccably elegant, blonde Malfoy wives. Three years younger than her husband, Astoria had heard her older sister and cousins gossiping about the Malfoy heir's supposedly "aristocratic features," which meant, Astoria had deduced, that he was in possession of a sizeable fortune. No more than 14 at the time of the war, Astoria's family had, in true Greengrass fashion, slunk away to France, which preserved them from the unpleasant necessity of joining Voldemort to save their lives and somewhat ironically, ended up preserving their name and reputation as well, unlike the blacklisted Malfoy family. While Daphne Greengrass, empty headed and beautiful as she was, managed to ensnare the much sought after Blaise Zabini, Astoria had had no such luck. After years of desperately seeking a match for the much plainer Astoria, the Greengrasses had decided Draco Malfoy, outcast though he was, would have to do.

Astoria had not much minded her marriage: the Malfoys had a sizeable library; Draco kept to himself and had given Astoria the freedom she had desired for so long. She only came to resent deeply Draco's complete apathy when her son was born. Each time young Scorpius had tugged on Draco's robe with a beaming smile on his face, Draco had simply jerked his head in a mockery of a nod and quickly walked away, leaving a crestfallen Scorpius behind. Astoria had dragged Draco to King's Cross when Scorpius first left for Hogwarts, but all he had managed was an awkward pat on his son's back and had thereafter adamantly refused to come to the station ever again. That may or may not have had something to do with seeing the Potter-Weasleys at the station, but the longing in Scorpius's eyes when he looked upon families, real families, at the station and elsewhere, had filled Astoria with a great deal of helplessness. Her son deserved better.

So when Scorpius had graduated with full accolades from the Auror Academy, Astoria had tried to cheer him on enough for both parents, had tried to hug him twice as much as other mothers, but she hadn't missed the hurt look Scorpius shot at the closed door of his father's study. She had drawn him in again, trying to soothe away the pain, but he had shrugged her off, left his parents' flat and marched over to the nearest bar.

...Where he met a familiar red-headed figure slumped over the counter, clutching a tumbler full of firewhiskey. Just his luck.


End file.
